


Hunger in the Dark

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Molestation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 3x11 "Mystery Spot" Sam is focused on not letting Dean out of his sight now that he has him back, so focused he makes himself a target and Dean must find a way to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P

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_**CHAPTER 1** _

"Rise and shine, Sammy." Dean gave his brother's foot a shake where it stuck out of from under the blankets and grinned when Sam groaned and rolled back under his pillow.

"Let's take today off." Sam grumbled, exhausted. He was still recuperating from their supernaturally extended stay in Broward County just three days before. He heard the door open and jerked his head out from under the pillow. "Where you going?"

Dean gave him a funny look. "Get breakfast. Why?"

Sam rolled out of bed with a sigh. "Just give me a minute. I'll come." He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as possible.

Dean watched him go into the bathroom and rolled his eyes. He was more observant than his little brother gave him credit for. In the last three days he'd barely been able to take a piss without Sam standing over his shoulder. He took a deep breath, finding patience and shut the door to wait. He supposed if it had been him, forced to watch Sam die over and over for weeks on end he'd be a little clingy and over-protective too. It still wore on his patience though but he'd humor him a little while longer.

Sam was out of the bathroom in record time and dressed, relieved to find Dean hadn't left without him. There were still those moments, when he woke, that he had to remind himself he was out of the loop and Dean was alive and with him. He got into the Impala beside Dean and sighed heavily as his brother fired the engine to life.

"Still here, Sammy." Dean chuckled and smirked at his brother as he pulled out. "You find us a job before you passed out last night?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe. After breakfast." He didn't want to get into a discussion of blood and bodies before he ate. "Not eating conversation."

Dean grinned. "I can take it."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'd rather eat first. Just because you can eat over a corpse…"

"Woos." Dean teased and pulled up in front of the local diner, laughing as he got out. "You're payin'." He told him as he pulled open the door and Sam snorted, bumping his shoulder as he went past.

Sam hid his grin as he turned away toward a booth and palmed the wallet he'd picked from his brother's pocket.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"Not cool, dude." Dean glared at Sam as they returned to their room. Sam had yet to stop laughing, reduced to chuckles at last as Dean slid his wallet back in his pocket.

"Teach you to call me a woos." Sam smirked and dropped to the table, opening his laptop.

"You were supposed to pay for breakfast." Dean gave him a dirty look and Sam smiled.

"I did." Sam retorted innocently.

"With your OWN money, jackass." Dean groaned and started tossing things into his duffel while Sam laughed again. "Tell me about this job before I hurt you."

Sam swallowed his laughter and pulled up his research from the night before. "So, Nashville has two missing children and three dead men, fourth in a coma from blood loss."

"Blood loss?" Dean turned around, interest piqued.

"The victims were drained from multiple puncture wounds." Sam pulled up an autopsy photo and turned the screen to him. "Doesn't look like a vampire but…" He shrugged. "I'm not sure what it is yet."

Dean got closer to the screen, making note of the neat holes and the bloodless skin. "Yeah the wounds are too neat for a vamp. Chupacabra?"

Sam shook his head. "Deaths all occurred in populated areas, couple parks, a suburb and the last guy they found outside a bar in the red light district."

"Huh." Dean frowned and turned back to packing up the room. Chupacabras preferred woods and forests, farms and the like. "Could be a desperate Chupacabra." Though even as he said it, it didn't feel right to him. "Anything on the kids?"

"Two different races, two different neighborhoods." Sam closed the laptop and stood to start packing his own things. "One was taken from her home and the other a playground." He shoved the laptop into its bag. "There is a pattern in Tennessee. Once a year for a week, seven kids go missing, one each night and at least as many people are bled to death. The kids bodies are never found."

"Any particular week?" Dean asked, zipping his duffel closed.

"Yeah and that's the weird part. It always happens on Holy Week." Sam came out of the bathroom with his toothbrush. "It's the week leading up to Easter."

"Which is this week." Dean nodded. "Dude, that's twisted. Killin' kids right before Easter?" Dean scowled. "We need to gank whatever it is."

Sam nodded and shoved the last of his clothes into his bag. He waited for Dean to tug the weapon's bag out from under the bed and they gave the room a last once over before heading out to the car, Sam close on his heels.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Tony stumbled out of the bar, taking a moment to brace himself on the door while he swayed before starting off down the dimly lit street. He'd definitely had one too many and chuckled softly at the rant his girlfriend was no doubt going to give him when he stumbled in at three in the morning. He squinted at the one bright streetlight, blinking his bleary eyes happily as he turned and put it at his back. It threw long shadows down the empty street ahead of him, his own weaving out toward home.

He started humming as he walked and tugged his jacket tighter against the cold that had settled in the day before. A rattle of something metal like a can came from further down the street, then the hiss of something he figured was a cat.

"Pish off hairball." Tony called with a laugh. "Make me shome…kung pao kitty." He tittered as the hiss sounded again. "Hate catsh." He slurred.

He neared the alley and paused as another, louder hiss sounded from its dark depths. Tony felt the first tingle of fear pass up his spine and wished he hadn't had those last three whiskeys. He stumbled backward as he felt a sharp pain in his leg.

"What the…" Tony slapped a hand down to his thigh and brought it up, staring at the blood glistening darkly from the street light behind him. A second pain exploded in his shoulder and he teetered, dropping to his knees. He looked down and saw more blood seeping from neat holes in his jacket. "Ohmigod." He gasped. "Help! Help me!"

Tony's scream was choked off as a third wound stabbed into his throat. He felt warm blood pour down his chest and gagged on it as he tried to scream. Blackness began to swirl in his vision. He felt himself fall to his side, unable to move he could only stare at the alley and the dark figure he could just see emerging from the shadows.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean drove through downtown Nashville with a smile on his face. "You know what they call this town, Sammy." He said and gave a sidelong look at his brother. "Nash-Vegas."

"Dude, missing kids and bloodless bodies." Sam thumped his arm. "We're not here to gamble."

"Aw c'mon, Sammy! I've only got a few months left man! I deserve to have some fun!" Dean grinned and then rolled his eyes, letting the grin fade at the hurt look on Sam's face.

"It's not funny, Dean." Sam said softly and then sighed. "Look, let's gank the monster and then we can hit the tables."

"That's my boy." Dean said, reviving his smile and turned the volume on the radio up.

Sam looked over at his brothers' face in profile and tried not to remember what it had been like knowing he was dead for six months or what it would be like in a few more short months. He shook his head and looked out the window, watching the well-lit streets give way to the dimmer suburbs surrounding the city. He wasn't going to let that happen.

"Which way to death central?" Dean asked with a smile as Sam snorted.

"Take a left up there. One of the kids and two deaths happened in Red Boiling Springs." Sam told him and Dean raised a brow.

"Seriously. Who named the place?" Dean laughed and Sam smirked.

"It got its name from a farmer in the 1800's who found a spring with red sulfur water boiling on his land." Sam replied.

Dean gave him a disgusted look. "You really need to spend less time at the library, Sammy. It's creepy you know that."

Sam chuckled. "Daniel Boone used to hunt the animal trails around here too."

Dean shook his head. "Geek."

"Man slut." Sam replied with a grin, enjoying the laugh he startled from his brother.

They drove on and quickly found themselves in Red Boiling Springs. The town was quiet and even though it was night, the lights from Nashville lit the sky above them, making it seem more like dusk rather than almost one in the morning. Dean looked around the little suburb and frowned.

"Might have to rethink it not being a Chupacabra. Look at that." Dean nodded ahead to the clear end of the actual town and the woods that spread out beyond it.

Sam looked up and nodded. "Maybe. Doesn't feel right though. None of the attacks have actually been in the woods."

"First time for everything." Dean commented and pulled off at the first motel he spotted. It was flanked by a seedy bar on one side and a convenience store on the other. "All the comforts of home, Sammy!" Dean said as he parked by the office, prompting Sam to roll his eyes again.

Sam hopped out and went into the office to get them a room. Dean watched him chatting with the woman behind the counter through the window, his little brother using his puppy dog eyes to good effect if the blush on her face was anything to go by. He came back out and got back in the car with a serious look on his face.

"There's been another death." Sam told him and pointed toward the end of the building. "Room twenty-three. Guy was drained two streets over after leaving the bar next door."

"Damn." Dean rumbled the Impala down the row of rooms, pulling up in front of theirs. He wasn't sure he liked that their motel was literally at a crime scene; that close to whatever hungry monster was eating people made him a little nervous. He gave himself a shake as Sam got out and decided they were up to whatever came at them.

Sam opened the room door, flipping on the lights and sighed. Faded paisley starbursts on the walls clashed garishly with the green diamond pattern on the rug and the beds were covered in red as if to make it stand out all the more. "I think I'm gonna get a headache looking at this room." He said ruefully and smiled as Dean came in behind him and snorted.

"Seventies Nashville chic, Sammy." Dean chuckled and tossed his bag on his bed nearest the door. "Let's do the time warp."

Sam laughed and went to look in the bathroom. It at least was spacious though the shower was definitely made for people a foot shorter than they were, as usual. Dean went back outside as Sam pulled his laptop out and came back in with the beer he'd stopped and picked up, putting it in the little fridge.

"Too late to go by the police station so I'm gonna check the bar next door while you research." Dean smiled. "Maybe walk by the crime scene."

Sam hastily closed the laptop he'd just opened and stood. "Ok, let's go."

"Whoa, I think I can handle going next door." Dean laughed and then rolled his eyes as Sam ignored him. He threw an arm up in surrender and went outside, letting Sam shut the door behind them. They passed the car and strode out to the street, turning to the bar and its dingy windows. "Dude, you have got to let me outta your sight sometime." Dean complained with a smirk as Sam followed him into the bar. He knew Sam didn't want to be there; would much rather be researching in the motel but if Dean was going out, so was he. Sam had yet to really tell him what had happened while he'd been alone with the Trickster. He was starting to get the impression he had missed something other than just his Groundhog Day deaths.

"Nope. I don't." Sam said firmly and surveyed the interior of the bar. "How you wanna play this?" Sam nodded to the burly guy behind the bar.

Dean shrugged. "Cops have probably already been here irritating the guy so let's try the buddy card." Dean smiled and went to the bar, Sam at his side and got the bartender's attention.

"Aw come on." The bartender, short but muscled with a head of spiky black hair rolled his eyes and slapped his palms on the counter. "More cops? What the hell? I already answered a shit load of questions and I still don't know shit."

"Whoa." Dean said, surprised and looked at Sam and himself. "We look like cops to you?"

"You're not?" The bartender now looked surprised. "Huh." He said as both men shook their heads. "Never been wrong before. Ok, let's start over. What can I getcha?"

Dean smirked, unsure if he liked being mistaken for an idiot cop or not. "Two beers and some info."

"Tony was our friend." Sam said hurriedly as the bartender began to frown again. "We just want to know what happened to him."

The bartender sighed and put two beers on the counter. "Ok, look. Tony was in here. Drinkin' too much like he usually does. He was over playing pool with those guys for a couple hours." He nodded toward the back of the bar and a pool table. "Then he left. Couple hours ago. That's all I know." He pushed back the bill Dean laid on the counter. "On the house. Sorry about your friend."

"Thanks, pal." Dean said with a smile and grabbed a beer. "Come on, Sam." He threaded his way through the tables and the few patrons, mostly rednecks to the pool table and stopped in the door to assess the two men standing by the table. They were older, mid-forties Dean thought and looked a bit out of place in the hole in the wall bar as they stood in their dress slacks and button down shirts, sleeves rolled up to their elbows.

"Evenin' boys." Dean said in greeting and instantly decided he didn't like either one of them. Something about the way they gave him and his brother long looks from head to toe made him feel wrong. He stepped forward anyway. They needed information. "Open game?"

"Sure, why not." The taller of the two held out a hand to Dean. "I'm Bill. That's Gary."

"Dean." He shook the hand and then surreptitiously wiped it on his jeans. "My brother, Sam."

Sam raised his beer in greeting rather than shake the offered hand. Like his brother, he wasn't keen on the two men either.

Gary chuckled and stepped back to a small table, picking up his drink. "Good. Bill can kick someone's ass other than mine for a change."

"Actually, we really just wanted to ask you a few questions." Sam said, stopping Dean from going to the table. "You were playing with our buddy, Tony earlier tonight."

"Oh yeah. Cops were in here a little while ago." Bill shook his head sadly. "Such a shame. He seemed like a nice guy."

"Anyone give him trouble while he was here?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam and seeing the tightness around his eyes. His little brother obviously felt the same about these two.

"No, nothing." Gary put a hand on Sam's arm at his elbow with a sad expression. "We're really sorry about what happened to your friend."

Dean felt an instinctive urge to kick the guy and instead settled for taking Sam's arm and turning him out of the room. "Well thanks guys. Really. Enjoy your game." He gave Sam a nudge toward the door and they left quickly. Outside, both men shook themselves.

"Why do I feel like I need a shower?" Sam asked and resisted the urge to wipe off his arm where Gary had touched him.

"Cause those two are some kind of bad news." Dean said surely and started down the street. "Come on. Let's go check out the crime scene."

"We should suit up." Sam said and headed toward the motel room instead. "It's only been a couple hours. Cops might still be there."

"Crap." Dean groaned but followed him, gearing up to play FBI for the locals.

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_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER 2** _

"Haven't seen two that pretty around here in a long time." Bill commented to Gary as he broke the balls across the table. He stood up, letting his cue fall to the floor as Gary bent to get a good look at the table.

"I like the tall one." Gary smiled and nodded toward the wall. "They went to the motel if you're interested."

"Hmm." Bill took a moment to bring the image of the shorter brother to mind, though he was by no means short and smiled. "Poor Tony didn't hold a candle to those two." His smile widened and he met his friends' eyes, seeing the same desire written there before he bent and lined up his first shot.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam and Dean ducked under the crime scene tape, heading for the lone officer still there. Dean noted the red stains on the sidewalk and frowned.

"Thought you said the guy bled out?" He asked Sam softly. "No way did he leave enough here." Sam nodded and then smiled at the officer as they both pulled out their badges.

"Officer. I'm Agent Torres. My partner Agent Sambora." Sam folded his badge away. "What happened here?"

"Feds?" The officer asked and shrugged. "I'm Jakes. Guy got stabbed."

Dean shook his head, ducking his head to hide the smile at yet another intelligence challenged deputy. "Stabbed how?" He asked finally.

"Well, the M.E. said he'd been stabbed like six or seven times." Deputy Jakes shrugged. "Better ask her."

"Yeah." Sam said slowly and shook his head. "We're gonna take a look around."

"Sure. Help yourselves." Jakes stepped away and went back to his squad car.

"Wow, how did Barney Fife get a badge?" Dean shook his head as Sam stepped toward the alley a few yards away.

Sam chuckled. "It's a little town." He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shone it into the darkened alley. The streetlight at the corner gave off plenty of light in the street but the alley was near black with darkness. "Whatever killed him was probably waiting in here." He spared a glance for the Deputy, seeing him; head down and oblivious in his cruiser and then drew his handgun, bracing his gun atop of it and stepped into the alley.

"Sammy, what the hell?" Dean growled and dashed over to his brother as he vanished inside the alley. Dean pulled out his own gun and stepped around Sam, taking the lead. "You tryin' to piss me off? You wait for backup." Dean ignored the bitchface Sam gave him and strode ahead, unwilling to let his brother put himself in danger before him just to humor Sam's new protective streak. Dean reached back and plucked the flashlight from him.

"Dean…" Sam started but his brother cut him off.

"Get over it, Sam." Dean told him and shined the light around the alley.

Sam swallowed the argument in his head, knowing now was not the time and settled for keeping close to Dean's back. They swept the alley all the way back to where it dead ended and found nothing save for a few drops of blood. They emerged back onto the street, guns stowed away.

"Okay, not a Chupacabra." Dean said and pulled up the yellow crime scene tape, letting Sam duck under first. "This is way too neat."

"Whatever this is, it's not a sloppy eater." Sam commented and followed Dean down the street. He sighed and looked up into the night sky. "It's the third night of Holy Week. It takes a child a night Dean."

Dean cringed inwardly at the tone in his brother's voice. "I know, Sam." There was nothing they could do about it yet, not until they knew what they were hunting. "We'll find them, one way or another."

Sam was silent as they reached their room and quickly went to his laptop. He threw himself into the research while Dean puttered around the room pouring salt lines and vandalizing the window sill with a sharpie drawing protective symbols. He vaguely acknowledged the beer his brother set beside him with a nod and didn't look up from the screen.

Dean chuckled. Nothing made Sam more driven to puzzle something out than knowing lives were on the line. He watched him hunch over the laptop with single minded intensity and shook his head, turning on the tv as he stretched out on his bed; the same intensity with which he was attacking the need to find a way to save Dean. He gave an involuntary shiver; glad Sam was too preoccupied to see it. Dean kept smiling and making jokes for Sam's sake while inside he felt a level of terror he hadn't felt since he was a child, carrying his baby brother from a burning house. He glanced up from the tv at Sam and steadied; it was worth it. He only wished he could have gotten more than a year. Watching Sam's tired eyes as they bored into the screen and the exhausted tension in his shoulders, he found he was going to miss taking care of him and then smirked at himself and his internal chick flick moment. He'd give Sam another hour before he forced him into bed.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam jerked awake, sitting up with a confused "Huh?" as the motel room door slammed shut. He looked over to find Dean standing in the door with a bag of food, coffee and an amused grin.

"Morning, princess. Got the keyboard imprinted on your face there." Dean nodded and rolled his eyes. Contrary to his good intentions, he'd fallen asleep before Sam and woken in the morning to find his little brother sound asleep at the little table with his face planted into the laptop's keyboard.

Sam wiped drool off his cheek and frowned. "Shouldn't have gone without me." He muttered as he got up and headed to the bathroom.

"I can handle getting breakfast, Sam." Dean said, irritated and set the bag down on the table. "Been doing it for a while you know." His brother ignored him and shut the bathroom door. "Well this crap is gonna stop, Sammy." Dean muttered to the closed door and sat down in front of the laptop. He booted it up, as it had long since gone to sleep, to see what Sam had found. The open page was not about the case and Dean sighed. It was a study on Hellhounds and how to stop them. "Sam." He whispered and closed it, checking the desktop instead. His OCD brother always kept his research together. Sure enough he found a folder waiting labeled 'Nashville' and opened that as the sound of the shower filtered out to him.

Sam emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, toweling his hair off and found Dean scooping up the last of a container of scrambled eggs over his keyboard.

"You sure about this?" Dean asked him and pointed to the screen with a fork. "A Sigbin?"

"Not entirely, no." Sam admitted and tossed the towel on his bed before sitting at the table and taking the container Dean handed him. "So far it's the closest fit and honestly there really just aren't that many supernatural creatures that use Holy Week as a killing cycle. It's a safe bet." He took a bite of the now cold eggs and shrugged. "They drink blood, take kids and…" He paused. "According to the lore they take the hearts of the children and turn them into some kind of amulet." Sam swallowed hard and set the eggs aside. "I'm gonna call Bobby. See if he has any better info on them."

"What kind of amulet?" Dean was working to keep the disgust off his face at hearing what was likely happening to the missing children.

"I can't find anything on that or on how to gank them." Sam pushed the rest of the food away, no longer hungry.

"Let's go have a look at the bodies." Dean shut the laptop and stood. "I wanna find this thing tonight." He said fiercely, not wanting to let another kid be killed while they spun their wheels. "Checked the news while you were in there."

Sam sighed and closed his eyes. "It took another child last night, didn't it?"

Dean didn't need to answer and grabbed his duffel on his way to the bathroom to put on his Fed suit.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"What'd Bobby say?" Dean asked as they pulled up at the County Coroner's office and got out.

"That he's never heard of a Sigbin this side of the Philippines before and he'll have to do some digging." Sam followed him inside the low building.

The inside of the building smelled like every other Coroner's they'd been in; antiseptic and slightly minty air freshener trying to cover the musty scent of death that never the less lurked beneath and on the edge of the senses. The lobby was absurdly decorated with framed photographs of country music stars and cowboys hung on white walls over dented plastic chairs. A bored looking man in his twenties manned the desk and barely brought his eyes up to meet theirs as they showed their badges and requested the ME.

"Yeah, whatever." The desk clerk waved a hand toward a door in the far wall. "She's down in the crypt."

"Employee of the friggin month." Dean said with a laugh as they walked away. "Hope the Coroner's more with it than that guy." They headed through the door and down a flight of stairs, following signs through empty halls and pushed through the double doors to the crypt. Dean's eyes immediately lit up. An attractive woman stood over a covered body in the center of the room; chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a long braid and honey-gold eyes rose up to meet them, curiosity twitching a slender brow into her hair.

"Can I help you?" She asked and Sam was almost sure he heard his brother purr.

"We're Federal Agents." Sam greeted and gave his brother an elbow in the side to stop gawking. "We're here about the drained corpses."

"I was wondering if the Feds were going to show up at some point." She pulled off her surgical gloves and held out a hand. "I'm Doctor Fleures. You can call me Grace." She gave a pointed look to Dean as she shook Sam's hand, quirking her mouth up in appreciation.

Dean took her hand with a grin. "Our pleasure."

Grace's smile widened and she cleared her throat before dropping his hand. "Right, well. Bloodless bodies. This way boys." She headed for the wall of refrigerated doors and pulled open one at knee level. "Start with the freshest. This is last night's victim; Tony Hallard." She tugged out the gurney and pulled back the sheet covering him to reveal the white corpse. "Nine pints of blood lighter than he should be."

"Huh." Dean leaned closer to the man's shoulder. "Those wounds are awful damn neat."

"They all are." Grace pointed to his abdomen and upper thigh. "Whatever the weapon was it was narrow and sharp. Even the single puncture in his throat is clean." She leaned back, frowning. "There's no foreign material in the wound tracks. I mean nothing and all the bodies are like this. Like they were stabbed with…I don't know, air." She chuckled darkly and shook her head.

Sam took Tony's hand, turning the arm as his brows drew down. "No defensive wounds. He didn't fight this?"

"Well that's not as odd as the wounds." Grace turned to a table and picked up a file. "He had a fairly high blood alcohol content. All the victims did actually. Mind you, even plastered I'd still expect to see something, scraped knuckles, knees, something." She sighed and looked back at Tony's body. "It's like they just laid down and bled out."

"Thank you, Doctor Fleures." Sam smiled and turned to leave, noting with a roll of his eyes that Dean was lagging behind. Since he'd made the deal to save Sam's life, Dean had been jumping anything that crossed his path and, truthfully, Sam couldn't blame him so he stepped out of the room to give his brother time to flirt.

"So, Grace." Dean watched her push the gurney away and close the door and smiled when she turned to him. "You ever get a night off?"

Grace blushed prettily and nodded. "Been known to happen." She reached a bold hand up and straightened his tie with a smirk. "Call me when you get the chance. We can…compare notes."

Dean chuckled and nodded. "Count on it." He took her hand in his. "Call me Dean."

"Well, Dean you better get going before your partner comes looking for you." Grace said with a little laugh and pulled her hand away.

Sam stood up from leaning against the wall as Dean emerged, grinning happily. He smirked as his big brother slapped his arm and strode past. "So I take it that went well." Sam said to his back and Dean laughed.

"I'm definitely gonna need a checkup before we leave town." Dean said with a dirty grin.

"Please promise not to give me the play by play." Sam groaned as they headed back out.

Dean laughed. "If you'd get your freak on more than once a decade you'd be a lot less tense." He teased and grinned at the look of disgust Sam sent him. "I need food."

"You always need food." Sam retorted as they got in the car.

"Everyone needs food. You should try it." Dean shot back. "We're going to lunch and you're eating for a change."

"Dean…"

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean cut him off with a grin and turned the radio on, cranking the volume as they pulled out.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

They spent the day after lunch pouring through police reports and visiting crime scenes with little effect. The Sigbin left nothing behind to identify itself beyond the wounds and blood loss.

"Yeah, Bobby. Thanks." Sam flipped his phone closed and looked over to his brother as he pulled two beers from the fridge and held one up. Sam shook his head and Dean grabbed him a bottle of water with a sigh instead, tossing it over.

"So, what'd Bobby say?" Dean dropped into a chair at the table and cracked his beer.

"You're gonna love this." Sam took a gulp of water and sat across from him. "It's about the size of a large dog, has vestigial wings and my favorite; it can become invisible to humans."

"Oh that's just friggin peachy." Dean said, disgusted.

"Bobby says it doesn't feed from people directly. It feeds from their shadows." Sam raised a hand when Dean looked at him. "I don't know. Neither did Bobby. Somehow it feeds directly from a person's shadow."

"That's why the wounds were so clean." Dean nodded. "It never actually touched them."

"He thinks it should become visible while it feeds and he's pretty sure blessed silver will kill it." Sam told him.

"He thinks?" Dean raised his brows. "Well that inspires me with confidence."

Sam chuckled and set his water aside with a frown. "Must be coming down with something. Water tastes funny."

Dean chuckled. "You come up with the flu I am so not cleaning up your altar to the snot god again."

"Bite me." Sam smirked and looked at his watch. "If we're gonna hunt this thing we should get started. There's a park about six blocks from here that's roughly in the middle of all the attacks."

"Good a place to start as any." Dean stood and grabbed his jacket. "Let's lock and load."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

The park was more of a forested acre, crisscrossed with walking and bike paths, than a typical city park; trimmed expanses of well-kept lawns with scarce trees and abundant park benches. Katsky Park was a tamed forest of dirt paths and streetlights making beacons of light through the darkness as it descended. Sam and Dean had arrived ten minutes earlier and crouched a hundred meters or so off the main path, leaning against a large tree and waited for the park to close and the last of the people to trickle out. They didn't have long to wait. The weather was edging toward another record low winter and few people were brave enough to take a romantic walk or brisk jog in the nearly zero degree temperature.

"Ok. Ten o'clock. Parks been closed for an hour." Dean took out his flashlight and handgun, loaded with blessed silver rounds, Sam doing the same beside him. "Let's see if we can gank us a bloodsucker."

"Watch your shadow." Sam warned him as they stepped out onto the deserted path. Dean had wanted to split up to better search but Sam had adamantly vetoed that idea. They still weren't entirely sure how the Sigbin's feeding process worked and frankly, the park was too large. He didn't want to worry about one of them yelling for help only to not be heard. Dean had grudgingly given into his logic and strode ahead of him now, light sweeping back and forth across the path and into the bushes and trees on either side.

Sam kept his light down, trying not to throw his brother's shadow ahead of him and make him a potential target. He stumbled on the path and straightened, putting a hand to his head.

"You okay back there, Sammy?" Dean asked, suddenly in front of him.

"Huh? Yeah. I tripped." Sam said ruefully and waved him off. Dean gave him a look and shrugged, taking the lead again.

"Try not to trip over those flamingo legs of yours." Dean said with a laugh and didn't see the finger Sam cheerfully flipped behind his back. They passed beneath one of the staggered street lamps, the pool of light doing little beyond the trees, only lighting the path itself. It was quiet and just as he was sure they were on a wild goose chase, the crickets and lone owl that had been hooting in the dark went silent.

"You hear that?" Sam asked behind him and saw his brother nod. Something was close by and scaring the forest denizens. He stumbled again in a sudden wave of dizziness and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "What the hell?" He whispered. He looked up. Dean was twenty paces ahead of him, the streetlamp behind Sam throwing both their shadows down the path and into the bushes at the turn ahead. "Dean?" Sam called, feeling another wave of dizziness sweep through him. His mouth went dry as his vision began to swim.

"Sam?" Dean spun, hearing the odd tone in his brother's voice and saw him standing…wobbling behind him. "What's wrong?"

"I dunno." Sam was beginning to feel as though he'd had too much to drink which was ridiculous he thought, as he'd had nothing to drink. How could he be drunk? His thoughts were starting to scatter as he saw Dean take a few paces to close the distance between them. At the same moment, something large rustled in the bushes at the edge of the turn beyond them. "Dean…" Sam called and then cried out as something stabbed into his left leg just below his knee. He dropped to his knees in pain and confusion as Dean raced to him.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and slid down beside him, catching him as he tipped sideways.

"Dean…sh…shadows." Sam managed to get out around the cotton in his mouth.

Dean swung his flashlight up, following the line of Sam's shadow into the bushes. Something gave an inhuman scream as his light swept into them and he raised his gun, firing into the bushes as they shook. Another screech broke the night air and something big took off deeper into the forest.

"Sam?" Dean looked down to where Sam had fallen in front of him. "Hang on." He grabbed Sam under the shoulders and pulled him back to the streetlamp, getting him under it so there shadows all but vanished beneath them. He ripped a hole in the leg of Sam's jeans to get a better look and found two neat holes, bleeding profusely. "Crap. Sammy?"

Sam's head lolled back and forth. He knew he was lying down but it felt like the ground was spinning under him. "Dean…" He gasped. "Something's…somethin' wrong."

"Sam." Dean pulled him up so he was leaning against him, looking for more wounds. "Where else, Sam? Where else did it get you?"

Sam shook his head and tried to focus on the wavering image of Dean's worried face above him. "Didn't…feel weird. I feel…I think…Dean?" His head dropped forward, he could no longer hold it up and dimly heard Dean calling his name and shaking him while two red eyes peered out at him from the trees further down the path.

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_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**_CHAPTER 3_ **

"Sam. Sammy, look at me." Dean grabbed his brother's head and tilted it up to get a look at the rolling eyes. Sam's pupils were blown wide, his skin flushed in a cold sweat and pale. "Talk to me, Sam."

Sam suffered through the spinning sensation and tried to form a coherent sentence. He remembered the feel of the Sigbin, the sensation of a ghostly mouth stabbing into his leg; feeding and drawing his blood in great gulps before Dean scared it off. "Dean." He gasped and closed his eyes. The way he was feeling had nothing to do with the wound; he was sure of that. It had started before the attack.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean looked frantically out and back down, not understanding what was happening. "I gotta get you out of here." Sam's hand fisted in the front of his jacket.

"S…Sigbin." Sam stuttered and managed to point down the path. Dean followed his wavering hand and saw the brief flash of red eyes among the trees before they vanished.

Dean growled in frustration. It was hunting them, waiting for them. "Remind me to tell Bobby his research skills suck." Dean said, half joking as the blessed silver rounds had done little more than annoy the creature. He knew he'd hit it several times and still it lived.

Sam looked up at the sky, seeing the thick cloud cover and his rapidly fraying thoughts spun together for a moment. "Dean…light." He grabbed Dean's jacket again, willing his brother to understand. "Shoot it. No…no shadows."

Dean looked up at the lamp above them and nodded grimly. He understood. They're only chance of getting out was to cast no shadow as they escaped; to not give it a way to attack them. He turned Sam so he was sheltered under his shoulder and raised his gun, firing up into the light. He hunched over his brother as the glass shattered around them and plunged them into darkness but for Dean's flashlight. He hastily turned it off, slipping it into his back pocket and said a silent thank you that it was a moonless night.

"Ok, Sammy." Dean uneasily put his gun away and pulled Sam up so he was sitting. "Any chance you can actually walk?" He asked, not expecting an answer and didn't get one. Whatever was wrong with him, he was quickly headed toward unconsciousness. He sighed and stood, pulling Sam up with him and propped his trembling body against his. "Sorry about this, sasquatch." Dean bent and tipped Sam over his shoulder. He got his large bulk situated and drew his gun again. It wouldn't kill the creature but it would at least drive it off if it got brave.

Sam moaned and Dean started back up the path, squinting his eyes and opening them wide; trying to adjust to the darkness. His nerves were jangling to warn him as he heard soft rustling sounds from the woods around them. He moved as fast as dared, balancing Sam with one arm and resisted the urge to spin back and forth at each sound. The silence was grating, broken only by the creature's movement as it shadowed them and Sam's less and less frequent noises.

"Persistent little bastard." Dean growled at the noises around them. He shifted Sam higher and then stopped, eyes widening. "Crap!" Their shadows were starting to appear on the ground in front of them. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder and saw the moon beginning to slide out from the cloud cover.

"Oh come on!" Dean picked up his pace, using both hands to keep Sam stable but was forced to slide to a stop near a turn as their shadows edged closer to the screening of trees ahead. He felt Sam shifting on his shoulder and knelt down, sliding him forward. "Ok, we gotta stay still for a minute, Sam." He settled Sam against his chest and raised the gun as their shadows lengthened further.

Sam was aware enough to know what was happening. He twisted in Dean's arm, reaching for his back pocket.

"Sam? What are you doing?" Dean asked as his brother twisted and scrabbled at his back.

Finding what he wanted, Sam dropped back against Dean's chest and raised the flashlight. "Lure it." He said carefully and switched on the flashlight as he raised his arm into the light.

"Sam!" Dean reached for the light at the same moment the Sigbin jumped into the open, latching on to Sam's shadow as his brother shouted in pain. "Dammit!" Dean aimed and fired, watching the spray of something dark; blood from the creature's head before it screeched and rolled away into the trees. He slapped the flashlight from Sam's wavering hand and grabbed his arm. "What's _wrong_ with you!" He shouted.

Sam let his head fall back and his eyes close. "Car." He muttered. "Now."

"Dammit, Sam." Dean grabbed his arm and pressed Sam's sleeve hard against the warm wetness he could feel there. "Soon as you can stand up again I am kicking your ass." The only response he got was Sam's head lolling into the crook of his shoulder. He sighed in frustration and stood, pulling Sam over his shoulders again. He heard nothing from the forest surrounding them now and hoped he had scared it off for good this time. Dean broke into an ungainly jog, wanting only to reach the car and the safety of their room so he could deal with Sam.

Dean reached the car and gasped in relief as he poured his brother into the passenger seat. He hadn't seen or heard any sign of the creature since he'd plugged it in the head. It was too much to hope he'd actually killed it. He ran around and jumped behind the wheel, gunning the engine. "Hang on, Sammy." He broke a few speed records getting back to the motel and was frankly surprised when no cruiser pulled in behind him as he squealed into the parking space outside their room. He was out of the car quickly and ran around, opening the door and pulling Sam up.

"Hey, buddy. You back with me, yet?" Dean asked as Sam made a token effort to get his legs under him and failed. "I'll take that as a no." He slung one arm over his shoulder and dragged Sam to the room and inside. He flipped on the light and got Sam over to his bed and laid him down. "Ok, let's see what you've done to yourself this time."

Dean ran back out to the car and grabbed the first aid kit before dashing back inside. Sam hadn't moved except to roll his head toward the door. Dean walked past the little table and then stopped. He stared down at the abandoned water bottle from earlier and remembered what Sam had said before they left; he'd said it tasted funny.

"Son of a bitch." Dean stared at the offending bottle as if it had grown two heads and looked over to Sam. He swallowed back the confusion and dug his cell phone out of his pocket, dropping the first aid kit on the bed. He scrolled down to where he'd plugged in the ME's number when he'd been planning on a fun night with her. He propped the phone on his shoulder as he bent to pull out the little scissors from the kit and opened up Sam's pant leg.

"Hello?" Grace's voice came silkily through the phone and despite his worry, Dean smiled appreciatively.

"Hey Doc. It's Dean. I need a favor." Dean said and heard her chuckle.

"Well it's a little late but…"

Dean cut her off. "Look. My br…partner was hurt tonight. I need a house call. More importantly I think he's been drugged."

There was silence on the other end for a moment. "Alright. Where are you?" Dean gave her the Motel's address and she sighed. "Why haven't you taken him to a hospital?"

"Our line of work you get pretty good at patching stuff up. It's whatever's messing with his head that's worrying me. Can you come?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in ten. Keep him conscious if you can." Grace said seriously and Dean tossed the phone to the other bed as she hung up.

"Okay, Sammy." Dean grabbed the pillows from his bed and pulled Sam up one handed, propping him against his chest so he could pile the pillows behind him before laying him back. Dean tapped the side of his face. "Come on. You gotta stay awake for me. Sam."

Sam heard Dean's voice through the fog in his head and focused on the worry he heard there. He cracked his eyes open and found Dean's face right in front of his, smiling tightly. "Hey." Sam breathed and the smile widened.

"Keep those eyes open for me, buddy. Doc's coming to give you a check-up but you gotta play nice til she gets here." Dean said and moved back so he could get to Sam's arm. It took him a few minutes to wriggle the arm out of the sleeve and disturbed him that Sam didn't seem to feel the pain from the wound as he did. "Sammy?"

"Mmm." Sam tried to lift his head to get a better look at his brother but couldn't.

"Okay. Just checking." Dean grabbed a wad of bandage and pressed it to the two neat punctures above his wrist. The bleeding had slowed but not stopped. A knock at the door made him jump and he grabbed his gun before peeking out the heavy curtains at the window. The gorgeous Doctor waited outside and Dean smiled. He went to the door and opened it, ushering her in.

"Thanks, Grace." Dean smiled as she gave him a brief smile before going to the far bed and sitting beside Sam.

"What's his first name?" Grace asked, giving him a serious look.

"Sam. His name's Sam." Dean came to stand beside her and watched as she took Sam's good wrist, fingers over his pulse.

"Sam? Can you open your eyes for me?" She put his wrist down with a frown and took a penlight from her pocket. "Sam." She tapped his cheek and then rubbed her knuckles heavily into his sternum. She got a groan and smiled as his eyes inched open. "There you are."

Dean watched carefully as she checked his eyes, frowning again and then moved on to check and dress the wounds in his arm and leg. When she was done she took a needle and syringe from her bag and drew a sample of Sam's blood, tucking it carefully away before she finally stood and moved away, beckoning for Dean.

"What the hell's wrong with him?" Dean asked quietly though Sam seemed to be asleep again.

Grace sighed. "Well I can tell you those wounds were caused by our killer." She gave him a sharp look but Dean said nothing. "I get the impression you don't want to tell me what happened because you think I won't believe it." She smiled up at him. "I'll tell you a story sometime about a string of corpses I autopsied down south and their…unique teeth." She watched Dean's brows rise and nodded. "More importantly though, you're right. Sam's been drugged."

Dean felt a wash of anger blow through him and he knew he would find whoever had done it and make them regret it. "With what?"

"It's just a guess, Dean but from his pupil response, heart rate and lack of responsiveness, the symptoms all point to GHB." Grace watched his eyes widen in shock. "However it happened, I don't think he got a full dose. He's still semi-lucid, enough to be aware if uncommunicative."

"It was the water." Dean turned and grabbed the bottle from the table, handing it to her. "He drank some earlier and said it tasted funny. Thought he was coming down with something."

Grace pulled the bottle from his tightening grip and smiled. "He's going to be alright. It'll take another eight hours or so for the drug to work itself out of his system and his memory of tonight is going to be spotty at best." She put a hand on his arm, trying to offer him some comfort. "The wounds aren't bad. They'll need stitching in a day or so, once the risk of infection is past. I'm going to test his blood and the water, confirm my findings. Just keep him hydrated. He's lost a couple pints at least from his skin color."

"Grace, thank you." Dean put a warm hand over hers on his arm and smiled his relief at her.

"You're welcome." She grinned and went to collect her bag, sliding the water bottle inside. "As soon as he's up and around, bring him in to the morgue and I'll check the wounds again." She brushed past him to the door, opening it and turned to give him a heated glance. "And I haven't forgotten that date we've got planned."

She left, closing the door quietly and Dean sighed. "Damn we need to finish this hunt." He went to sit beside Sam again and laid a hand along the side of his face, checking for fever. He pushed the shaggy hair off his forehead with a smirk. "Bet I could shave you bald right now and you wouldn't know it."

"Mmf." Sam mumbled and got one eye open to glare up at his brother.

Dean laughed. "Damn, you're still in there." He patted his shoulder and stood, going to the bathroom. He ran the cold tap and filled one of the motel glasses. Dean tasted it himself and found nothing beyond the usual taste of motel water and went back to the bed. "Sam? Need you to drink this." He got a hand behind Sam's neck and lifted his head, putting the glass to his lips. "Come on, buddy."

Sam felt the cool water at his mouth and greedily drank. His mouth and throat felt as though he hadn't drunk anything in a month. He sighed as the glass was taken away and got his eyes open again. "Dean? Wha…?"

"What happened?" Dean asked and Sam nodded. "Do you remember the park? The Sigbin?" Sam's brows drew together and after a moment he nodded. "Ok that's good. It got you a couple times. You're fine." Dean supported his head so Sam could see him. "Do you remember feeling strange? The water tasting funny?" This time Sam shook his head. "It's ok. You drank something, a drug." He felt Sam jolt and dropped a hand to his chest. "You're gonna be fine. The Doc said it'll be out of your system in a few hours."

"Doc?" Sam tried to remember and had a hazy image of a woman's face bent over him but that was all he could pull from his fractured memory.

"She was just here, dude. You don't remember?" Dean knew Grace had told him it was normal but he still didn't like the lapse in memory.

Sam shook his head. "Wha's…wrong with me?" He struggled to move, panic beginning to grip him as he fought against the lethargy that had stolen over him.

"Hey, hey, hey calm down." Dean braced Sam's shoulders to still him. "It's the drug. Just go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up. I promise." Sam settled under his hands, letting his eyes fall closed. Dean waited a few minutes to make sure he'd drifted off before getting up.

Dean went to the little refrigerator, bringing the trash can with him and took out all the water bottles and his remaining bottles of beer. He tossed them all in the trash, lingering over the beer. "Dammit." He couldn't trust anything in the room and that pissed him off. "Protecting a room against the supernatural is hard enough." He groused, putting the can by the door. "Shouldn't have to worry about keeping out jackass humans with a sick streak." He pulled a chair up near Sam's bed and turned the TV on low. "Soon as you can move tomorrow, we're finding a new motel." He told his brother softly and settled back for a long night.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean woke with a start from his doze in the chair, legs up on the end of his bed. His instincts told him something was different in the room. He blinked his eyes open and then frowned. The lights were out and the television was off. He knew he'd left them on, not wanting Sam to wake in the dark confused. He dropped his legs silently to the floor, pulling the gun from his lap and leaned forward to stand up. He grunted in surprise when two, steely arms wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms and a voice whispered in his ear.

"Naughty boy."

A second before something sharp pierced his neck and took the world away from him.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER 4** _

Sam flinched into wakefulness as bright light flashed behind his eye lids. He felt odd and strangely disconnected but his instincts were screaming at him to wake up, that something was wrong. He heard a thump and rolled his head, opening his eyes. He saw their motel room and felt a burning sensation in his arm and leg; remembering then he'd been attacked. He saw a blurred figure moving at the foot of his bed and something about it was off. Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand and crumpled to the floor in a dizzy heap. He heard a low chuckle and forced his eyes open again. There was something on the floor in front of him and he reached a hand out, fingers sliding into soft spiky hair and adrenaline flooded through his system.

"Dean." He whispered, recognizing his brother's hair. He rolled his head up to the figure standing above them and tried to get his eyes to focus.

"You're not supposed to be back with us yet, pretty boy." A voice breathed to him softly and Sam felt a chill crawl down his spine. He shifted slightly, something digging into his hip and inched his hand toward it as the figure neared. Sam closed his hand around what he realized was the grip of Dean's pistol and took a breath to steady himself.

"What did you do…to my brother?" Sam asked, begging silently for his vision to focus as the man laughed.

"The same thing I'm going to do to you."

"I don't think so." Sam growled as the face loomed nearer. He raised the gun and pulled the trigger. The report echoed through the motel room and he saw the man thrown backwards as the bullet hit him. Sam blinked his eyes furiously and finally managed to focus and see. "What the hell?"

He'd shot one of the men they'd met in the bar the night before. Sam tried to remember his name as he stared at the dead man, blood blooming on his chest. Bill, he thought and shook his head. He set the gun on the floor and bent over Dean where he lay.

"Dean?" Sam put a hand to his neck, relieved to feel the steady pulse and shook his shoulders but his brother remained unconscious. He rubbed a hand over his face, refusing to give in to the lethargy still trying to claim him and sat up. Dean's phone lying atop his bed caught Sam's eye and he reached for it, fumbling it open and scrolled down to the only person he could think to call for help. He listened to the ringing and kept his other hand on Dean's neck, needing the feel of his pulse to steady him.

"Bobby!" Sam said as the older Hunter answered the phone. "Bobby, we need help. Dean's…he's, I don't know and I killed someone. I think I killed him. I shot him…"

"Whoa boy!" Bobby's confused voice broke through Sam's. "Calm down and tell me what's going on." He was unused to hearing that level of panic in Sam's voice and it shook him. "Son, you ok?"

Sam took a breath and tried to collect his scattered thoughts. "There was a man in our room. Dean's out cold. I shot the guy and I think…Dean said I was drugged?" Sam phrased it as a question, unable to clearly remember everything that had happened that night.

"Where are you?" Bobby asked and quickly wrote down what Sam told him, swallowing his own fear. "It's gonna be alright, son. I can be there in a few hours. Can you handle it 'til then? Sam?"

"Right." Sam shook his head, jarring the cobwebs loose. "I…I'll try. Bobby I'm tired. It's so hard…" He trailed off and had to force his eyes open. "Somethin's makin' me sleepy."

"Dammit." Bobby rubbed a hand over his face. "You can do this, Sam. Block the door. Jam a chair under it or something." What he wanted to say was 'get your brother in the car and get out' but he could tell from his voice that Sam was in no condition to drive. "Sam, you still with me?"

"Yeah, Bobby." Sam used the beds to pull himself up and stumbled getting around Dean's body without stepping on him. He looked down and saw red stains on the bandages around his arm and leg. "Crap."

"What? Sam, what's wrong?" Bobby's worried voice came through the phone.

"S'okay. Just…bleeding again." Sam looked away from the blood and went to the table, taking one of the chairs and dragged it over to the room door.

"How bad? Sam, how bad you hurt?" Bobby was already dashing down the steps outside his house, swinging up into his truck.

"I don't think it's bad." Sam shoved the chair back under the door knob and wedged it there. "Doesn't even hurt right now."

Contrary to what Sam thought, that did not inspire calm in Bobby. "You just sit tight, Sam. Try to stay awake. I'm coming, alright?" He waited a beat and heard nothing. "Sam?" The pauses in the conversation worried him more than anything else; telling him Sam was not all there.

"Stay awake." Sam finally replied and made his way back between the beds. He lowered himself down to sit beside Dean and pulled his head and shoulders into his lap. "Bobby, Dean wont wake up."

"I'm already on the road, son. You just hold on." Bobby reassured him and closed the phone, tossing it in the seat beside him as he dropped the gas pedal to the floor.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Bobby turned into the motel parking lot as the first blush of dawn started to creep across the sky. He spotted the Impala easily near the end of the long building and parked beside it. He was out of the truck and almost to the room door when he skidded to a stop and drew his gun. The door was cracked open.

"Balls." Bobby breathed and edged closer to the door. Light shone out in a wedge from the open door and he used his foot to kick it wider, sweeping into the room with his gun first. A chair lay on the floor beside the door and he could see Sam in the space between the beds on the floor, his head resting against the side of the far bed. "Sam!" Bobby called and shut the door behind him. He checked the rest of the room, ducking his head into the bathroom and, satisfied it was clear went quickly to his boys. Sam still sat between the beds, Dean lying out in front of him with his head and shoulders in his lap. Bobby put his gun up and knelt over them, reaching out to grasp Sam's neck and gave him a gentle shake.

"Sam. Wake up." Bobby sighed, relieved when Sam's head rolled to the side and lifted up to look at him.

"Bobby?" Sam smiled and let go of his gun to put a hand on the older man's arm. "Hey, Bobby." He looked down at Dean and then frowned. "I fell asleep again. I'm sorry."

"It's ok, boy. Now, let's get you two off the floor so I can get a look at ya." Bobby's gruff speech was delivered with a smile though fear still clenched around his gut. He bent and took Dean's shoulders first, lifting him from Sam's lap and manhandled up and onto the bed, grunting with exertion. "Your turn." He bent over again and took the arm Sam raised up to him, pulling and strained to get him to his feet, guiding him to the other bed. "Gotta stop feeding you boys." He said with a laugh.

"Bobby, is he ok?" Sam looked over at Dean and tried to push himself up but Bobby shoved him back onto the bed.

"He's ok, Sam. What about you?" Bobby grabbed his arm, peeling back the bandage to get a look beneath it and frowned. "The Sigbin?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think." He looked up, confusion in his eyes. "Having trouble remembering anything from last night."

Bobby patted his shoulder. "We'll figure it out." He looked around the room and grabbed Sam's head to make him focus. "Sam, what'd you do with the guy you shot?"

"Huh? He's over…" Sam leaned around Bobby to point and then his eyes widened in shock. "Bobby, he was right there! I swear." Sam looked around the room as if expecting to see Bill's body suddenly appear.

"You sure you killed him?" Bobby asked as Sam became more agitated.

"I hit him in the chest, Bobby." Sam stared up at him. "I remember that. I saw the blood. Bill was dead."

"Sam." Bobby took his shoulders. "The door was open when I got here. Someone moved the chair out of the way." He watched as Sam's already pale face, paled even further. "Ok. I'm getting you boys out of here. Stay." He pushed gently until Sam leaned back against the headboard. Whatever drug he'd been given was still screwing with his head, Bobby knew as Sam gave him little argument.

Bobby slipped into damage control mode. He packed up the room quickly and methodically, digging the Impala's keys from Dean's pocket to pack up the car. Sam had once again fallen into sleep as Bobby worked. He went to Dean and sighed, looking down at him.

"Son, anytime you wanna wake up." Bobby said and groaned when he got no response. He bent over Dean and pulled him up, getting him over his shoulders and grunted. "I'm gettin'…too old for this." He lugged Dean out to the Impala and slid him carefully into the backseat. Bobby frowned and bent over Dean, turning his head to the side as he spotted a trickle of blood on his neck. There was a small hole, like an injection site and he scowled. "Boy you need to wake the hell up and give me some answers." He smoothed a hand through Dean's hair and settled his head on the rolled up blanket he'd put there as a pillow.

Bobby went back into the room and shook Sam gently. "Wake up, son. I aint carryin' you out to the car." To his relief, Sam groaned and woke, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Bobby?" Sam looked up at him, momentarily confused and then nodded slowly. "Right. Right. I remember."

"Come on, amnesia boy. Let's get you in the car." Bobby pulled Sam's good arm over his shoulders and got him up. After a few steps, Sam started to limp heavily and hissed in pain.

"Holy crap." Sam looked down as if seeing his leg for the first time. "Why's it hurt now?"

Bobby chuckled. "Sounds like whatever you got doped with is wearing off." Bobby got him moving again and helped him into the passenger seat, shutting the door as Sam twisted to get a look at Dean in the back seat. "He's alright." Bobby said as he got in and turned on the car.

"It's been hours, Bobby." Sam said, worry edging through his voice. "He hasn't even moved."

"Don't borrow trouble, Sam." Bobby told him and smiled. "He's gonna be fine."

"You don't know that." Sam had yet to turn around from the backseat, his bandaged left arm hanging over the seat so he could rest his hand on Dean's chest; reassured at least a little by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Yes I do, son. He's alright." Bobby said and believed it because he wouldn't let it be any other way. His boys would be fine.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Bobby found a motel just on the outskirts of Nashville proper. He was half tempted to just turn around and drive both boys back home where he knew they'd be safe until they were standing again but knew Dean would never let him hear the end of it.

"The blessed silver didn't work." Sam said suddenly, head lurching up off the window where he'd dozed off.

"Say what?" Bobby looked over to watch Sam rubbing his eyes.

"The bullets. Dean hit it, more than once and it didn't die." Sam told him and then smiled, embarrassed. "Sorry. It's coming back in bits and pieces."

Bobby chuckled. "Long as it's coming back and I might know why." He pulled up in front of the room they'd be using and parked. "How you feelin'?"

"Out of it." Sam said quickly and sighed. "And everything's starting to hurt. Think I preferred being unconscious." He groaned as he opened his door and swung his injured leg out to the ground.

Bobby came around the car and opened the back door, leaning in and slid Dean out until he could sit him up. "Wish sleepin' beauty here would grace us with his presence." He said with a smirk.

"I'll get him." Sam said and stood up only to fall back into the seat.

Bobby snorted. "Sit down and wait yer turn." He pulled Dean's arms up and once again got him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He braced a hand on the roof of the Impala to balance himself. Sam managed to climb to his feet again as Bobby passed him.

"I'll get the bags." Sam said firmly and smiled when Bobby growled at him.

"Stubborn idjits." Bobby groused, opening the room door and kicked it all the way open. The room was decorated in cool lime green with faded, butter yellow carpeting as he trudged through the small sitting area to the beds at the back. Not being a fool, he laid Dean down on the bed closest to the door with a smirk. He settled Dean comfortably on the bed, shoving a pillow under his head and slapped his face a couple times.

"Come on, son. You been out of it long enough." Bobby shook his head when he got no response. "What the hell'd they give you?" He looked over his shoulder, not seeing Sam in the room yet and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling for patience before he headed back out. "Boy if you're on the ground…"

Bobby trailed off when he reached the door and looked out. The Impala stood there, passenger doors still open, the trunk popped up but no sign of Sam. "Sam?" Bobby went to the trunk and saw no sign of him. "Sam!" He shouted and looked around the parking lot. He was gone and panic overwhelmed him. He sprinted back to the room, shutting the door and ran to the bed. Bobby gasped in relief to still find Dean where he'd left him. He stood beside the bed and stared around the room, for once at a loss as to what to do.

He dropped his face into his hand before looking at Dean's peaceful face. "You're gonna kill me when you wake up." He sat beside Dean and slapped his face again. "Dean." He called his name firmly and then bruised his knuckles into Dean's sternum. After a moment, the pain elicited a response, making Dean moan and Bobby rubbed harder. "That's it, Dean. Wake up now." Dean's head rolled on the pillow, slipping to the side. "Dean?"

Dean heard Bobby's voice calling him and the confusion brought him closer to the surface. He couldn't understand how he was hearing Bobby. He wasn't there. It was just him and… "Sam?" Dean said softly and got his eyes open to see Bobby sitting beside him. His chest hurt and he struggled to raise a hand to rub along his breastbone. "Bobby? Wha?" His head felt stuffed with cotton and it took him a full two minutes to register that they were in a different motel room.

Bobby helped Dean sit up, piling pillows behind him. "You with me, son?"

Dean looked into the fear plain on Bobby's face and felt an answering tug in his gut. "What's wrong? Bobby?" He looked around the room and finally realized what was missing. "Where's Sam?"

Bobby sighed. "He's gone." It took all of Bobby's considerable strength to keep Dean from throwing himself off the bed, forcing him to stay seated. "Just wait. You're still not all here."

"Gotta find Sam." Dean rubbed a hand across his face and shook his head, trying to clear it. "Someone jumped me. In our room." He said and shut his eyes, trying to bring the memory into focus. "The lights were out and…" He slapped a hand up to his neck.

"Yeah, someone stuck you with something. Knocked you out but good." Bobby let go of Dean's shoulders now it looked like he was going stay calm. "Sam called me. Said he woke up and found you on the floor and some guy standing over you. He shot him but Dean, when I got there it was just the two of ya. The body was gone and the door was open."

"Did he say who?" Dean pushed himself up higher in the bed, determined to get past the last of the drug.

"Bill?" Bobby told him and Dean's eyes shot wide.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted. "Those two creeps from the bar. I knew it!"

"Whoa back up now. Tell me everything." Bobby put a hand on his shoulder again. "Sam couldn't remember much. Take a breath."

Dean swallowed the fear that rose up to choke him at the memory of how the two men had made them uneasy and stared at Bobby, willing him to make it alright. "Bobby, we gotta find him."

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Sam struggled against the arms that restrained him, feeling his wrists shackled above his head. They had put a blindfold over his eyes. He couldn't see anything but he could hear the heavy breathing as someone fought to get him tied up, the satisfying grunt as his knee found a mark. His breath whooshed out of his lungs as a fist drove into his stomach.

"That will be enough of that." A voice said in his ear and Sam struggled harder when the fist on his stomach became a caress up his chest.

"Get off me." Sam growled and kicked out again. His foot found only empty air and a moment later his feet were grabbed and shackled as well. A hand pressed roughly into the wounds on his calf and he shouted in pain.

"I can't tell you how happy I am our little pet was unable to finish its work." The voice breathed into his ear again and Sam jerked his head away as it laughed.

Sam sent a silent plea that Dean at least was alright with Bobby as he felt his shirts being cut from him and shivered as the cold air hit his skin. Dean would find him; he told himself and did his best to ignore the rough hand running up his back to his neck.

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_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER 5** _

"Bobby, we have to find him." Dean stalked around the motel room, aching to be let out but Bobby was clear; he'd tackle Dean before he let him set foot outside alone.

Bobby looked up from Sam's laptop and sighed. "We will, Dean. Just…sit the hell down for two seconds. You're makin' my feet hurt." He turned the laptop around so Dean could see it. "Here's why the blessed silver didn't work." Dean growled and sat, pulling the screen closer. "Someone's bound the Sigbin. Until the vessel's destroyed, the creature can't be killed."

"Awesome." Dean shoved it away. "'Cause I blew half its friggin brains out and it walked away. So what the hell kind of vessel is it?"

"Usually a pot of some kind, covered in symbols." Bobby grinned. "Best part is, destroy the vessel and any damage the Sigbin's taken will take hold. Little sucker'll drop dead on the spot."

"It's those two guys from the bar." Dean thumped a hand on the table. "I know it. Bill and Gary." His lip curled in disgust. "Bobby, these guys are just…wrong. Made my skin crawl. Sam's too."

"Wrong how?" Bobby asked. It wasn't the first time Dean had referred to them that way and it was beginning to make him nervous.

"That Gary asshole looked at Sam like…I don't know. A piece of meat." Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and stood to pace again. "I'm tellin' ya, Bobby he put his hand on Sam and it should have been perfectly friendly but all I wanted to do was rip him apart."

Bobby swallowed the nervousness that sentence brought him and tried not to think of what Sam might be going through while they searched. "We're gonna find em." He stood and placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "I know a spell. Just need some of Sam's blood."

"What?" Dean demanded but Bobby ignored him, going outside to the car. Dean waited and a moment later Bobby returned with a white handkerchief in his hand, stained red.

"He was still bleedin' a little in the car." Bobby closed the door and went back to the table, hastily clearing it. "Good thing. Go in my bag over there, get me the map." Bobby told him as he laid the handkerchief on the table. For a moment, Dean simply stared at the blood; transfixed. "Dean."

"Right." Dean turned away and grabbed Bobby's bag. He wouldn't lose Sam again; not like this.

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Sam strained against the shackles, pulling on his arms and trying to squeeze a wrist through. All he succeeded in doing was aggravating the wounds from the Sigbin; leaving a trickle of blood flowing down from under the bandage. They had left him alone for over an hour for which he was thankful. He had finally recognized Gary's voice and shivered at the memory of the way his hands had roamed Sam's chest possessively. He turned his head into his bicep and ran his face along his arm, inching the blindfold up a little at a time until he could see. He turned his head in the dimly lit room and gasped in surprise.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to get that off." Bill grinned from the other side of the room and paced closer to him, smiling at the shock and confusion in Sam's eyes. "Oh you did shoot me." He placed a hand over his heart. "Impressive shot too for someone still drugged."

"Then why aren't you dead?" Sam worked to wipe the fear off his face and out of his mind.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Bill laughed. "Let's call it a trade secret."

"What the hell are you two?" Sam glared at him. He needed to understand what he was dealing with. They had to be some variety of human as the wards he and Dean had placed in the motel room had proved useless. "Witches? Warlock? What?"

"Such mundane choices." Bill tsked and shook his head. He came over to stand in front of Sam and dragged a finger down his chest, laughing again as Sam jerked away from his touch. "I was quite hoping to have your brother here as well." He frowned and reached up, grabbing Sam's arm around the bandage and squeezed his fingers into it, watching Sam's face pale as he fought not to cry out. "I'm quite upset with you, boy. You lost me my prize and cost me rather a lot of blood to get out of there." He released Sam's arm and left him gasping.

"Obviously…not enough." Sam said and smirked up at Bill defiantly. "Promise…to do better next time." He grunted when Bill's fist slammed into his stomach.

"Temper, temper, Bill." Gary chuckled as he entered the room, crossing to the two men and pushing Bill slowly away. "Play with your own toy."

Bill sneered at him. "I don't have mine so I thought I'd amuse myself with yours."

"Patience. We'll have Dean soon enough." Gary went to Sam and slid his hands around his bare waist, sliding up his back and pressed himself into Sam's chest like a lover. "Oh the fun we'll have."

"Get off me you freak!" Sam spit into his face but it only made Gary laugh.

"Sticks and stones, pretty boy." Gary let his hands roam down his back and Sam twitched as they passed his waist, curving around his buttocks and pulling him in. "I promise you'll like what we have planned." He leaned back and laughed in his face. "Well, parts of you will."

Sam waited for Gary to lean his head closer again, glaring down at him and when he did, he rocked his head back and then forward, butting Gary in the temple and knocking him to the floor. "You're screwing with the wrong family." Sam said dangerously, voice low and smiled. "You should know that."

Gary let Bill pull him up off the floor and looked angrily at Sam. "You have entirely too much energy, pretty boy." He said and straightened his shirt. "We can fix that." He stepped back from Sam and smiled while Bill strode quickly behind him. Sam felt the heat of a lamp at his back and frowned, seeing his shadow appear on the floor before him. Gary held up a hand, smile widening and snapped his fingers.

Sam jerked in surprise as a low hissing sound came from the doorway. He looked carefully and saw the shimmery outline of the Sigbin preparing to attack. "It's yours? You're controlling it?"

"Of course." Gary went to the door and lowered a hand, rubbing along the barely seen form of the creature. "It quite likes the taste of GHB in the blood. Our fault." He chuckled. "Makes the perfect lure; it kills who we want, drawn to the drug in their blood." He stepped away from the door. "There should be just enough left in your system. Don't worry, I won't let him drain you dry. Only enough to make you more…pliable."

"Aw crap." Sam groaned and then shouted in pain as the creature pounced his shadow, two holes appearing in the skin of his left shoulder and once more, he felt the ghostly impression of jaws clamped to his skin; of a mouth draining the blood from him and he had no way to fight it.

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Dean stood tensely over Bobby's shoulder as the older hunter recited an incantation over the complex pattern of symbols he'd drawn on the table. In the center lay the handkerchief with Sam's blood and beneath; a map of Nashville. Bobby finished the spell and a small curl of smoke rose up from the table.

"Cross your fingers." Bobby said and picked up the handkerchief. "On the map beneath was a small burn and Bobby smiled. "There's our creature."

Dean leaned over the map. "You tracked the creature? What if Sam's not there?"

"He'll be there." Bobby said surely for Dean's benefit. The unspoken look on his face said that he was willing it to be so. "Let's go."

Dean turned and went quickly to the door, outside and in the Impala before Bobby could even get out of the room. He revved the engine once Bobby slid into the passenger seat and pealed out of the parking lot.

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Sam sagged from the chains holding him standing as the pain finally ceased, the Sigbin leaving him be. His vision blurred and his skin was covered in a cold sweat. Nausea from the blood loss roiled in his stomach and he breathed heavily through his nose, trying to tame it. Gary appeared in front of him, looking up into Sam's pale face with a smile.

"Anything to say now?" Gary asked him with a smirk.

"Yeah." Sam glared at him. "What…what happens to the kids?" His gaze flicked over to the Sigbin and back. "You're gonna…kill me anyway. I can't know?"

Gary smiled and caressed his hand along Sam's face. For once, Sam ignored it; too exhausted to even pull away. "They give us life." He tapped a finger against Sam's lips and this time Sam did jerk away weakly. "But you can see for yourself." He moved away so Sam could see the room again.

Bill had left at some point and re-entered carrying a little girl in his arms. He took her to a covered altar at the back of the room and laid her atop it. The Sigbin made itself visible; lurking at Bill's heals while he settled the child. Bill stepped away from the altar and gave a short whistle.

"No. Don't do this." Sam begged and felt tears sting his eyes for the child. "Please. You can let her go."

"Why would we do that?" Gary asked and smiled.

"She's just a little girl. Let her go." Sam pleaded. "I…I'll do whatever you want. Use me for…whatever it is just…leave her alone."

"Oh, Sam." Gary cupped his face. "My god you're even more devastating when you're being self-sacrificing." He laughed as Sam pulled his head away angrily. "Sorry, love. Has to be done. Bill?"

"Up you go." Bill motioned and the Sigbin leaped to the altar, crawling over the girl until it rested on her chest, vestigial wings twitching lightly in the dimly lit room as it bent over her.

"Stop this." Sam watched the gentle rise and fall of the girls' chest and broke a little inside at having to watch. "What's it going to do to her?"

"Oh kill her." Gary said off-handedly and chuckled. "You know, we're quite a bit older than you think. You see, the Sigbin will take her heart, transform it and then we…well it's a bit indelicate but, we consume the result."

"What do you get out of it?" Sam pulled at the shackles again, straining to free even one of his hands.

"Power." Gary breathed into his ear, suddenly leaning in. He stepped behind Sam and wrapped his arms around his chest. "Long life. The process is quite…exhilarating."

Sam shivered as Gary's hands slid along his skin, feeling the nausea rise stronger as the man pressed himself into his back suggestively. His heart began to pound and the loss of blood made his head swim dangerously; his legs going out from under him as Gary's arms tightened and lowered; the Sigbin reached a clawed hand toward the girl's chest. Sam tried to struggle against the black spots crawling across his vision, against the hands inching beneath his belt.

"No!" Sam shouted, his eyes closing on blackness as the creature's claws touched the girl and her back arched from the altar.

"Hey!" The bellow startled Gary where he wrapped around Sam. Sam felt him jerk against his back and struggled to reopen his eyes as the sound of gunshots filled the room. Hands grabbed at him again and he tried to shift away from them even as he lost his battle with consciousness.

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Dean and Bobby eased up to the front of the house, guns drawn and Bobby stopped Dean from kicking the door in with a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, boy. Don't give 'em time to kill Sam before we find him." He said softly and watched Dean wage a quick war with himself before nodding finally.

"Right. You're right." Dean knelt by the door instead and easily picked the lock. He stood back up and pushed it slowly open. Bobby gave him a nod and they stepped into the darkened house, guns leading. The front room of the house was large and lived in though all the lights were off. The only illumination came through the breaks in the curtains on the windows. They moved silently through the room and Dean froze at a side door, slipping to its side and motioning for Bobby to get out of sight.

A moment later a man, Dean recognized him as Bill came down the stairs in the hall carrying a small girl in his arms. Bill was smiling down at her with a feral look as he passed by the door, his back to the two Hunters. He tugged open a door hidden in the paneled wall of the hall and vanished down a flight of stairs.

Bobby nodded to Dean and followed as the young man stepped into the hall and went to the softly closing door. Dean slipped his fingers in the gap just before it closed and eased it open again. He put his head through and then looked back at Bobby before heading down the stairs. They reached the bottom and found a long hallway with several doors on either side. The door farthest from them was open, low light spilling out into the hall. As Dean raised his foot to start toward it they heard it; Sam's voice shouting.

Dean threw caution aside hearing the panic in his little brother's voice and sprinted down the hall, Bobby hot on his heels. Dean burst through the door and took a moment to see the room; Sam chained to the ceiling, Gary wrapped around him and his hands…Dean growled low in his throat; across from the them stood Bill beside an altar with the girl lying upon it, the Sigbin atop her with its hand reaching for her chest.

"Hey!" Dean shouted and took his first shot at the Sigbin, knocking it from the child before turning to his brother. Bobby stepped in behind him and fired three shots at the creature and into Bill where he stood, stunned beside the altar.

"Get the hell off him!" Dean growled at Gary as he moved back and Dean fired. Gary's body jerked with the shots into his chest and hit the wall, sliding to the floor dead. "Sam!" Dean glanced behind him to see Bobby had the creature's attention and grabbed his brother. "Sammy?" Sam flinched away, his head hanging low and eyes closed. Dean scowled at the fresh blood streaming from new wounds high in his shoulder.

"Bobby, they let that thing feed from him again." Dean steadied Sam. "Sam. It's me. It's Dean. Open your eyes." He lifted Sam's head up and waited until his eyes cracked open.

"Dean?" Sam asked weakly, not trusting his eyes.

"Hey, little brother. You ok?" Dean smirked at him. "Saw Frankenfurter getting his freak on."

Sam let his eyes sag shut in relief and nodded. "M'okay." He got one eye open to look at his brother. "The girl."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll check on her just lemme get you down." Dean reached for his wrists but Sam shook his head.

"Girl." Sam said, determined and Dean huffed a breath.

"Don't go anywhere." Dean dropped a hand onto his neck, giving a quick squeeze and then went to the altar. Bobby was driving the Sigbin from the room with shot after shot and kicked the door shut once he had it in the hall.

"That won't keep it long." Bobby shook his head, seeing Dean with the girl and went to Sam. "Hey boy. You awake?" He lifted Sam's head and got a weak smile. "Let's get you down from here."

Dean put his hand at the girls' throat and smiled when he found her pulse, strong and steady. "She's ok. Just out cold." He turned back and dashed over as Bobby freed his brother. Dean caught him and helped lower him to the floor. Sam's head rolled to the right and he jerked into Dean as he saw Gary's body on the floor. "Whoa, calm dude. He's dead."

Sam shook his head slowly. "Don't…don't trust him." Sam felt his vision fading again and made his eyes stay open. "Don't stay dead." He grabbed hold of Dean's jacket, twisting his fingers into the leather. "Bill. Shot him but…he came back."

Dean watched Sam's eyes roll up and stopped him toppling to the floor. "What's he talkin' about, Bobby?"

"Well he said he shot that one." Bobby waved a hand at Bill. "But when I got there, no body, no blood and the door to the room was open." He shrugged. "Honestly Dean, he was still so messed up on the drug I don't know if it actually happened or he imagined it."

"Okay." Dean sat Sam up against the wall. "Find me something to wrap this with?"

Bobby nodded and went over to the altar, taking his knife and cut a wide strip of cloth from the covering. He came back and handed it to Dean. "Use this."

Dean wrapped the fabric carefully around his brother's pale shoulder, not liking the pallor over all his skin. He'd lost so much blood and the shallow breaths Sam was taking as a result were making him nervous. He could hear the Sigbin scratching around out in the hall, sometimes thumping against the door and they were going to have to deal with that first to get him out. He tied off the ends of the cloth and rested a hand briefly on Sam's shoulder.

"Hang on, buddy." Dean stood and looked around. "So, any sign of this pot the thing's bound too?"

"Balls." Bobby threw his arms out in frustration. "It aint in here. Could be one of the other rooms down here." He nodded toward the door.

"Right. So we play tag with the damn family dog until we find it." Dean checked the clip in his gun and sighed. "It doesn't get to Sam again." He told Bobby firmly and the older man nodded, raising his gun to the door as Dean took the handle. He turned the knob and threw the door open. The Sigbin waited just outside, semi-visible and snarled as Dean's gun lowered into its' face. He pulled the trigger, sending the creature tumbling back along the hall as Bobby shouted in surprise behind him.

"Dean!" Bobby called and then gasped as an arm circled his neck like a band of iron.

Dean whirled to find Bill amazingly alive and choking Bobby. He raised his arm to take the man's head off this time and grunted as Gary appeared, covered in blood and very much alive to tackle him into the open door and out into the hall.

"Should have listened to your brother." Gary hissed into Dean's ear as he pressed him into the floor and the Sigbin stalked toward them.

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_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER 6** _

Sam heard Bobby shout, then Dean and even in his semi-conscious state he knew something was going very wrong. The familiar panic that had been choking him for days came back full force and drove him awake. The soul deep panic of Dean slipping through his fingers while he wasn't looking, of seeing him die over and over, of six terrifying months spent existing without him forced air back into his lungs and feeling back into his limbs. He swallowed back the dizziness threatening to suck him under again and crawled up the wall until he was standing. He saw Bobby first, the older man's legs giving way, face turning blue and Bill behind him with a maniacal grin.

Sam dove forward as Bobby's arms went limp and dropped his gun. He caught the weapon before it hit the floor and fired into Bill's face. The man was sent tumbling back to fall against the altar. Sam glanced down to see Bobby wheezing air in and turned to the hall and his brother. He staggered to the door, slumping into it and raised the gun in a shaky hand. Dean was pinned beneath Gary and the Sigbin was lurking just beyond them; hissing, spitting and waiting for a chance to capture Dean's shadow. Sam raised the gun and shot out the light in the ceiling above, plunging the hall into darkness. With the light behind him tossing his shadow forward, he lunged and wrapped his arms around Gary's shoulders, grunting with the effort of pulling the man up with him. He ducked behind Gary so it was his shadow that crawled out over Dean and down the hall.

"Sammy?"

He heard Dean say and a moment later, Gary gave a pained shout as the Sigbin pounced on the only shadow available to it. Sam felt warm blood gush over his arms as the creature fed eagerly from the shadow's throat and Gary's voice gurgled into nothing.

"Dean." Sam said hoarsely. "Get back…in here." Gary writhed in his weakening grip. Adrenaline was leaving him and in its wake the blood loss was going to take him down again. "Dean."

Dean scrambled to his knees, staying low so his shadow wouldn't overtake Gary's and squeezed around them. He stood and pulled Sam back, giving Gary a solid kick out into the hall and slammed the door. "Sam? Sam!" Dean caught him as his legs gave way and lowered him to the wall beside the door.

"M'okay. Bobby." Sam panted and Dean nodded, giving him a thump on his good shoulder before turning away.

"Gettin' slow in your old age, Bobby." Dean said with a grin. He reached down and pulled the older Hunter to his feet. His eyes narrowed angrily at the ring of bruises circling Bobby's throat and he moved his adoptive father aside to see Bill's body, face a red ruin lying beside the altar.

"Call me old again boy and I will take you over my knee." Bobby growled at him with a smirk. "Sam?" He went and knelt beside the younger Winchester. "What in hell possessed you, son? You aint got enough blood left in ya to be playin' superhero."

Sam smiled tightly with his eyes barely open and let Bobby prod at the wound in his shoulder. "Not helpless." He murmured and hissed while Bobby adjusted the cloth wrapped around the wound.

Bobby snorted. "Never said you was. Bleedin' again." He observed and tightened the bandage.

"Not dead yet." Sam was floundering against the pull of sleep. He tangled his fingers weakly in Bobby's sleeve. "Bill. Gary."

Bobby patted his hand and loosened Sam's grip. "We know, son. We know."

"Already on it." Dean called and Sam tilted his head to see Dean had rolled Bill onto his stomach and was tying his hands tightly behind him. Dean stood and checked on the little girl again. Whatever they had given her was keeping her blissfully asleep. He hoped it would last until they could get her out. He pulled up the long sides of the cloth covering the altar and wrapped it around her like a blanket before lifting her gently. He stepped around behind it and set her behind it, out of sight. "That should keep her safe until we get this mess sorted." The Sigbin was growling and hissing in the hall again, scrabbling at the closed door from time to time, rattling it in its frame. If Gary had recovered from its attack he had yet to show himself.

"We gotta find that damn vase." Bobby said with a shake of his head.

"How much ammo you got left?" Dean checked his own clip and raised an unhappy brow.

Bobby picked up his gun from beside Sam and smirked. "Got enough to do the job."

Sam refused to let them face the creature alone and struggled to get his legs under him. He jerked, realizing his eyes were still closed when he felt hands on his shoulders pushing him back down.

"Stay put, Sammy." Dean ordered and held him still. "Bobby and I got this." He frowned down at his little brother, so determined to get up and help again despite how close he was to being unconscious. He felt as though Sam didn't want to let him out of his sight, as he had for days and decided when this was done they were going to have a long talk. He waited until Sam settled back and then stood. "Okay, Bobby. Plan?"

"Don't get dead." Bobby said with a shrug and went to the door.

Dean snorted. "Nice." He pulled out his flashlight and flicked it on then reached over to the light switch beside the door. Sam had shot out the light in the hall which meant as soon as he opened the door their shadows would sprawl out into the hall if he left the lights in the room on. "You want Cujo or the thing's doghouse?"

"I'll find the pot it's bound too. You keep it busy." Bobby said and readied himself.

Dean nodded and plunged the room into darkness. "Stay put, Sam." Dean said softly and threw the door open, leading with his flashlight. "Shit. Gary's gone."

"Balls." Bobby stepped up behind him and just caught the flicker of the Sigbin in the beam of the flashlight before Dean fired and stepped into the hall. "Go, Bobby!" He stepped further out and closed with the creature, keeping its attention while Bobby kicked in the first door and vanished. The Sigbin gave a low, feral growl from the end of the hall and Dean had trouble keeping it in the beam of the light as it blinked in and out of visibility.

"Come here ugly." Dean stalked closer to it. "I got somethin' for you to chew on." He let off two more rounds, grinning as the Sigbin screeched in pain. He heard a step behind him and turned with the flashlight, shining briefly on Bobby before aiming it back down the hall. "Anything?"

"Still lookin." Bobby growled and opened the door across from him.

"Hurry up." Dean jumped back a step as the creature lunged for him. He fired into its body, wishing the damn thing would die already. The sound of a foot fall behind him made him turn but he was too slow as someone tackled into his back and drove him to the floor. "Gary, you ass." Dean growled and drove his elbow back and up into the man's face. He heard a grunt and tried to roll only to be pinned down.

"Wrong." Bill's voice breathed in his ear and Dean froze for a moment with fear.

He had tied Bill up himself. If he was loose then Gary had to have gotten past him and Bobby somehow and… "Sam!" Dean bucked against the weight on his back, rolling the man off. He lost his grip on his flashlight, watching it spin away and briefly highlight the ravenous face of the Sigbin. "Son of a bitch." Dean drove his fist up into Bill's face, got his knee between them and rocked him several inches up into the air with a pained grunt. Dean brought his gun back up and shoved it beneath Bill's chin and pulled the trigger. A spray of blood and brains exploded from the back of Bill's head in the strobing light from his torch to color the wall behind him as the man toppled to the floor beside Dean.

"Dean?" Bobby emerged, seeing Dean pulling himself from beneath the temporarily dead man. "Crap!" He fired three rounds into the Sigbin as it hovered just inches away from Dean's head.

"I'm ok! Find the damn pot!" Dean rolled to his knees and scooped up the flashlight as the Sigbin lurched toward the shadow of his arm. The creature's body brushed his arm as it passed and he felt pain shoot through his forearm before he grabbed the light and turned it back on the creature. He waited for Bobby to go into the next room and then started backing toward the two rooms the older Hunter had already cleared.

"That's it. Come on, Fido. Come get some." Dean briefly waved his arm in front of the light, creating a shadow the Sigbin jumped at. He used his shadow to lure the creature back and into one of the rooms. He cast his shadow along the back wall and the creature lunged for it hungrily as Dean slammed the door shut behind it. He took a brief second to eye the two bleeding holes in the arm of his jacket and then returned to the room they'd left Sam in.

Sam woke with a start, feeling himself pressed to the floor and opened his eyes to darkness and fetid breath gasping in his face. "Wha…"

"I wasn't done with you, pretty boy." Gary growled at Sam and enjoyed the shocked jerk of the body under him. "Bill's taking care of your brother as we speak. The old man won't last long after." He laughed and had little trouble pinning Sam to the floor despite his weakened attempts to throw him off. Sam gasped as Gary's hand closed around his throat. "See if we can't take a little of the fight out of you."

Sam scrabbled at Gary's face with his good hand, trying to get his thumb into the man's eye but his arm was knocked away. He felt the other man's hand running down his rib cage and bucked in sheer distress as it slid beneath his belt, cold fingers gripping at his hip. The hand cutting off his air squeezed more tightly and Sam felt the darkness of the room beginning to creep into his head. He heard his big brother's voice distantly call his name, heard a gunshot and then mercifully lost his battle to stay awake, his lungs burning with the need to take just one breath as light glared suddenly behind his closed eyes.

Dean skidded to a halt in the door and turned the lights on, squinting against the glare. The sight of Gary so intimately poised above Sam and his brother's blue lips, Gary's hand at his throat, made his blood run cold. Seeing Gary's hand emerge from his brother's jeans however, as Gary turned in surprise to face him, gave heat and rage to his blood and he fired. Gary's eyes opened wide in shock as the bullet took him high in the shoulder and threw him off his prize. Dean knew the gun wouldn't kill him and opted for a little satisfaction instead.

"You sick son of a bitch." Dean growled as he crossed the room and fisted his hand in Gary's shirt, lifting his head up. Dean drove his fist into the man's face three times before letting him drop to the concrete floor with a thud. He stood and kicked viciously into Gary's ribs before leaving him to check on his brother.

"Sam?" Dean knelt beside him and pulled Sam up into his arms. "Come on, Sam." He gave him a shake and was rewarded with a weak gasp as Sam's mouth opened slightly. Dean dropped his forehead to Sam's hair for a moment. "That's my boy."

"You can't win." Gary's voice came from behind him and Dean turned, drawing his gun to aim at the man still curled on the floor. Gary's voice was wet, blood filled from the broken nose Dean had left him with. "We can't be killed." Gary laughed and then coughed. "A matter of minutes and I'll be healed."

"Don't think so, jackass." Bobby strode into the room cradling an ornate clay pot covered in arcane symbols in one arm. Gary's eyes widened in fear as Bobby chuckled. "That's what I thought." He raised the pot up over his head. "Game over."

"NO!" Gary shouted, lurching to his feet as Bobby slammed the pot into the floor. It broke and shattered across the floor. Blood, bone and other things Dean couldn't identify spilled out along with the fragments. The Sigbin, trapped in the next room gave an ear shattering shriek and went silent. Gary cried out and then shouted again when blood exploded from his chest and head. They watched as every wound he had suffered manifested itself and the man fell backwards to land with a wet thud; finally dead. Bobby looked behind him to see the same had happened to Bill who was now a red mess in the hall.

"Sigbin?" Dean asked.

Bobby nodded. He went to the closed door, kicking it open and smiled. The creature lay sprawled by the door, bullet holes evident in its head and body; dark blood seeping out across the stone. "It's toast."

Dean sighed in relief. "Finally. How'd you know it'd kill them too?"

Bobby kicked absently at a piece of the pot. "Figured binding something as old as a Sigbin would need a sacrifice from the idiots doin' the binding." He shrugged. "Seemed logical considerin' we couldn't kill the assholes."

"Man I love it when you're right." Dean laughed softly and then looked down at Sam. "You grab the girl. She's behind the altar." He sat Sam up in his arms. "I'll get the sasquatch."

"Let's get the hell out of here." Bobby agreed and put his gun away. He knelt behind the altar and came up with the little girl cradled in his arms.

"Sammy?" Dean tapped his brother's face, hoping for a little help getting him up and out but he was down for the count. "Awesome." He stood, bringing Sam up with him and tipped the larger man over his shoulder with a grunt of strain. "How can he…weigh this much when…all he eats is those damn salads?"

Bobby laughed and led the way out of the room. He wisely said nothing, listening to Dean's labored breathing as they climbed the stairs. Outside they made a hasty retreat to the Impala, Dean sliding Sam gently into the backseat and Bobby in the passenger seat with the girl resting under his chin.

"What are we gonna do with her?" Dean asked as he got behind the wheel and pulled away from the house.

"Back to the motel and then I'll go drop at her at the nearest E.R." Bobby said. "You got things to take care of." He said with a glance in the rearview at Sam's pale face. "Probably oughta drop him there too while we're at it."

Dean chuckled. "He'd kill us." He dropped his visor against the late afternoon sun. "I'll give the M.E. a call. She wanted to see him again anyway. Check up on him."

Bobby looked over at him and then rolled his eyes at the look on Dean's face. "She's hot I take it."

Dean just chuckled. "And willing." He said cheerfully as Bobby groaned.

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Sam jerked awake, a shout on his lips and struggled violently against the hands holding him down before he recognized the voice calling to him. "Dean?"

"Shit, Sam. Warn a guy." Dean rubbed his jaw where Sam's hand had collided and sat back beside him. "Nice of you to join us."

Sam looked around and saw a motel room; a different motel room and Bobby standing over them and frowned in confusion. "Where are we? What happened?"

"Bad guys are dead." Dean said happily. "So's Cujo." He nodded at Bobby. "He found the pot and broke it. Thing One and Thing Two went down with it."

Sam nodded and settled back with a sigh of relief. "Wish I'd seen it." He said with feeling and smiled.

Dean handed him a bottle of Gatorade. "Drink. Doc said you need fluids seeing as you left most of yours behind."

Sam took the bottle, taking several grateful swallows. "She was here?"

"Yeah. Put you back together and went back to work. Seems someone called in a couple dead bodies." Dean smirked. "She's gonna make sure the death certificates say natural causes." He rubbed a hand through his hair and watched Sam's face. "Now, how about you tell me why you're suddenly paranoid every time I leave the room."

Bobby cleared his throat. "I'm a…gonna go grab us some dinner." He headed for the door, not wanting to get caught in the middle of whatever problem they were having and he had an idea.

Sam scowled up at Dean. "You initiating a chick flick moment?" He laughed but let it die away when Dean only continued to stare at him. "I'm not paranoid, ok?"

"Not good enough." Dean said firmly. "I get that the whole groundhog day thing sucked but dude you haven't been this clingy since you were twelve. What gives?"

Sam looked away and tried to think of some way to weasel out of telling him but, as usual, his big brother read his face far too easily.

"Forget it. I need to know what's going on in that freaky head of yours cause it's over. The Trickster's gone, I'm alive, time aint stopped anymore so what's the problem?"

"Six months." Sam said then, closing his eyes and let out a long, shaking breath.

"Huh? What's that even mean?" Dean stared down at the miserable expression on Sam's face and knew he was missing something, had missed something important.

"The Trickster. I thought it was over, he said it was over and I let you go out to the car on your own and…" Sam couldn't help the tightening in his chest or the feeling of panic that stole over him again. "There was a shot and you were…you were dead."

"Yeah and then everything reset and I was fine." Dean shook his head but Sam grasped his arm.

"No, Dean. It was over. You…you stayed dead." Sam pushed himself up higher against the headboard. "There was no reset. You were just…gone and I wasn't there and it was my fault and…"

"Whoa. Geez, Sam breathe alright?" Dean clasped a hand behind his little brother's neck as he started to heave for air. "I'm right here. Whatever happened, it was that damn Trickster. Not you."

Sam shook his head. "I hunted him, Dean. I…was on my own for six months." He looked up and saw realization dawning in Dean's eyes. "Six months with you dead."

"Son of a bitch." Dean breathed.

"I learned something in that six months." Sam shut his eyes, not wanting to see the look on Dean's face. "I don't know how to live without you. I hunted. Not just the Trickster, any damn thing Bobby could find for me and it didn't matter, Dean. I was just going through the motions. You were gone and I just wanted to find the Trickster…try and get you back."

Dean shook his head sadly, heart wrenching. "You found him though."

Sam nodded. "I…I killed Bobby. I mean…" He felt Dean jerk. "I knew it was the Trickster. I was sure and I…I'd already decided; if I couldn't talk him into giving you back I was gonna kill him and…"

"And what?" Dean asked but the sinking feeling in his stomach told him he already knew what Sam was going to say. "And what, Sam?"

"Wasn't gonna stick around." Sam finished and felt the hand on his neck tighten before Dean let go and got up.

Dean paced away from the bed and back, staring angrily down at his little brother. "You stupid…son of a bitch!" Dean shouted and glared at him, watching as Sam flinched. He reigned his temper in with difficulty before dropping back to sit beside him. "You think that's what I'd want? Trickster or Hell Hounds or…or I slip in the damn shower a month early. It. Doesn't. Matter!" He shouted, spacing the last words out for emphasis. "You stay alive, Sam. You damn well fight or it's all for nothing!"

Sam stared at his big brother and knew tears were escaping his eyes at the naked pain on Dean's face. He felt humiliated to know he'd considered letting himself die rather than live. "Dean…I'm sorry." Sam said softly. "God…I'm sorry. I didn't think…"

"Obviously." Dean glared at him again. "For a college boy you can be damn stupid sometimes." He was still wrapping his own head around his little brother hunting alone for six months. It was the thought that made him want to find a way out of his deal, though he knew there wasn't.

"I won't do it." Sam said quietly. "I promise. If I can't find a way to save you from this, I won't give up." He looked up and saw some of the anger fading from Dean's face. "But I'm going to find a way, Dean. I will."

Dean sighed, seeing the quiet desperation on his face and clasped the back of Sam's neck again. "I know, Sammy." He absently wiped some of the tears off Sam's face and then scowled at him. "You didn't wreck my Baby while you were going all Rambo for six months did you?"

It surprised a laugh out of Sam and he shook his head. "No…I did clean up the trunk though."

"Excuse me?" Dean squeezed a little harder. "Clean up?"

Sam smirked even though Dean was squeezing his neck menacingly. "I just organized it."

"I'm organized!" Dean argued and scowled down at him. "There is not a damn thing wrong with my system."

Sam chuckled. "You call that a system."

Dean cuffed him lightly upside the head and stood. "When I'm gone you better take care of her and I don't mean douche her up. Organized." He groused and went to get a beer.

Sam felt the fear drop back into his stomach with Dean's comment. The deadline was too close and he hadn't found a way out for him yet. It made his heart ache each time Dean mentioned his impending death offhand. His big brother might smile and joke but Sam was sure that inside, somewhere, he was screaming.

"Lighten up." Dean slapped his foot and startled Sam from where he'd been staring at the floor. He sat on his own bed and turned the TV on. "We've got time."

Sam nodded and smiled for his brother's benefit. He eased back down into the bed, finally feeling the aches from his shoulder, arm and leg and let his eyes drift closed. The low sound of the television helped him start to drift back to sleep, he was so exhausted. As sleep tugged at him, he suddenly saw Gary's face, smelled his breath and felt his hands where they shouldn't be.

"Hey. Easy, kiddo." Dean said, suddenly beside him again. "Scoot over."

Sam took a few deep breaths, easing his racing heart and rolled carefully to the other side of the bed while Dean settled beside him; sitting up against the headboard. Sam was glad he was facing away and Dean couldn't see the tear that escaped him as his big brother's hand landed on the back of his neck again with a gentle squeeze.

"Go back to sleep." Dean said softly, the hand letting Sam know that he wouldn't be alone…at least not for a while. He'd been planning on calling Grace once Sam was asleep but now, sitting beside him and knowing how short their time was; he couldn't think of a single good reason to leave him alone. "Night, Sammy."

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_The End._


End file.
